Only Words Can Say
by Qweeni
Summary: Things are not always as they seem. "Preps" can be poets, not all bad boys are druggies and hobos can have connections to the CIA? Read to find out more! Poems provided by older sister.
1. Prologue

Only Words Can Say

Prologue

Kagome Higurashi chewed absently on the end of her pencil, eyes ponderously scanning over the flowing, loopy handwriting covering the piece of pink stationary on her desk. Her gray eyes narrowed as she re-read one particular stanza before she slowly drew a single, neat line threw it and wrote something in the margin to its right. Setting the pencil down, she lifted the flimsy paper away from her, squinted critically at it and finally allowed a satisfied smile grace her lips. 

"Finally! Done. It may not win the contest, but it's definitely worthy of an A from Ms. Kaede," she announced, referring to the teacher of her second period literature class. Her whole name was actually Ms. Kaede Miko, but she insisted all her students call her Ms. Kaede instead of Ms. Miko; it apparently made her feel younger. 

_'Ms. Kaede's interesting like that,'_ she smiled to herself, stuffing the pink paper into a binder, which she took with her as she headed down the stairs. She sunk into the soft cushions of the family's sofa and flicked on the television, 

"I mean, she has to be pretty interesting to hold a poetry contest between her two classes, and even more so if she allows pen names," she explained to the fat cat that had just leapt onto her lap. 

The feline looked up at her in momentary curiosity before deeming her unworthy of interest and proceeding to wash its face. 

"Speaking of which," her gaze landed on the binder that held her poem, and her face paled at the thought of her classmates hearing the rather personal contents of the poem. "I really need to find myself a pen name. That means you need to get off Buyo." 

The aforementioned cat was pushed off her lap so she could lean forward and grab her sickeningly cute, collaged binder. Her fingertips froze against its spine when the annoying toothpaste saleswoman had left the TV screen and a deep voice said:

_"And now we return to Casablanca." _

Kagome squealed and swept the binder up to hug to her chest in delight. She couldn't believe that her favorite movie was actually on. They never played good movies like Casablanca on TV!

Bubbling with excitement, she leapt back onto the couch, abruptly quieting when Ingrid Bergman's beautiful face flickered onto the screen. What part of the move was this? Oh yeah! Ilsa had just entered the bat with her husband. 

Unconsciously squeezing the binder even closer to her chest, she gave a content sigh as Ilsa coaxed, 

_"Play it once, Sam…For old time's sake." _

Her fingers convulsively curled about the binder's edges as an idea suddenly struck her. Eyes shining triumphantly she looked around before she whispered, the time weary tune Sam was beginning to play her only witness, 

"I just found my pen name." 

He was hunched over the coffee table, scribbling furiously onto what might have been a piece of computer paper earlier, but was now a torn, crumpled, ink-saturated mess. How he could see what he was writing was a mystery, but then again, messes and mystery seemed to be constantly linked to the name Inu Yasha. One such mystery was why he was even doing the homework for his fourth period class in the first place. After all, slacker was another adjective linked to his name. Not that he really was; he just didn't think homework was necessary and was a waste of precious time. Like school in general. So why was he wasting even more time writing some dumb poem, for an even dumber competition his ancient teacher assigned? 

He, honest to the gods, didn't know. 

Wait, no. Apologies to the gods, he did know. Though he would rather die than admit it, but he really needed to vent. Usually he would've called up Kikyo and talked with her about it, but that was just it. Kikyo. 

The name caused him to press down harder on the pen he clutched, creating yet another rip in the paper. 

He didn't know what was wrong with him. Obviously it was HE who was fucked up because Kikyo wasn't doing any thing wrong. But maybe that was it. She was doing nothing wrong, but nothing right either she was just…being. Was he growing bored with her? Was he really that fickle? Impossible! He loved Kikyo since the fourth grade. Nothing could change that…right? 

He scratched out one last word before slamming his pen down and holding the paper out in front of him. Squinting critically at the crumpled mess, he scrunched up his nose and rolled his eyes. Okay, maybe he should re-copy the poem before turning it in. 

His eyes slid over to the remote control sticking out from under the ratty couch. 

…He could re-copy it later. 

Smirking, he grabbed the remote and flopped onto the couch, ears flattening at the way the rusty springs groaned with the added weight. 

"Damn couch, he muttered, turning on the television and glaring the passionately kissing couple that popped onto the screen. Changing the channel sounded good right about then. He redirected his glare as he did so, focusing on the piece of paper lying harmlessly on the coffee table in front of him. 

Stupid class. 

Stupid teacher. 

Stupid assignment. 

His glare turned suddenly accusing. Shit. He could NOT turn that poem in. Kikyo was in that class. Cursing under his breath, he reached for the paper, about to tear it apart—but wait! 

He paused then sniffed and lay back down onto the couch. That Kaede fogey, old lady, chic, person, thing…whatever, said something about pen names. Yeah. He'd use a pen name when he turned it in. 

Feeling quite proud of himself, he picked up the remote he had dropped in his haste to rip his poem to pieces and changed the channel. A man jumped into view. He seemed to be in a restaurant or something, but Inu Yasha could tell little else because it was one of those black and white movies. He snorted and was about to change the channel, but then the guy spoke up and his words captivated him,

_"I stick my neck out for nobody." _

Inu Yasha gazed at the man with new respect. Those were definitely words to live by, if he was one to judge…which he was. They were the words _he_ lived by, any way. 

"Well shit," he spoke up suddenly, "I just found my new pen name." 

A/N: Oooh, I cringe as I post this. That has got to be the worse beginning I've created so far. Don't worry, I promise it gets better. Or, at least it should. Any way, next chapter for Age of the White Dawn should be up in a week or so as for this story…well, this is just one of those light stories I'm doing for kicks. You know, give myself a break from the "intense drama" of my main story. Toot a loo, ya'll! Review if you want, oh and Inu Yasha and all them character's don't belong to me. ^_^ 


	2. The Wonders of Poetry

A/N: Wheeeee!! New story, new story. I was so high when I saw all those reviews you guys gave me for that one leetle prologue. Talk about blown away! Well, here's the next chapter, poems and all. Of course the only reason why these poem's are actually good are because they're my older sister's. All the credit goes to her; my poems are the typical paper or plastic overly-angst ridden ones you find on everybody's livejournals these days. Was any one else aware that they're making an originalfiction.net? Yeah, it should be coming out in the middle of September of sumptin. But n e wayz, to the story! 

Only Words Can Say

Chapter 1: The Wonders of Poetry

Running is such a strange verb to perform. It's faster than a walk or a jog, but slower than a sprint and was something Kagome wasn't particularly fond of; the achey feeling she got in her legs and the constant side-stitches just didn't sit well with her. But under the circumstances, running was utterly necessary. Most _would_ run when being chased by a tanuki armed with a lasso.

"Come now," it called in a distinctly Irish accent, "be a good girl and attend your chicken-riding lessons!" It swung its lasso threateningly. 

His request had struck mind-numbing fear into Kagome's heart, the beads of sweat rolling down her face becoming even more intense at the visualization of the massive, wild chickens she was supposed to be riding. Whimpering, she pumped her arms harder and moved her legs faster, attempting to avoid the lasso hovering menacingly above her head…

"Kagome? Kagome, get up!"

"Gah, no chicken-riding lessons!" Kagome's head shot up from her desk as she looked around, wild-eyed. 

"Chill out Kag," her best friend Sango hissed, her own dark eyes darting back and forth between the disoriented Kagome and Ms. Kaede. "Ms. Kaede's gonna announce the winner of the poetry contest."

"Oh, is that all?" Kagome muttered sleepily, rubbing her eyes, "I thought I got in trouble."

Sango rolled her eyes, "Like you ever get in to trouble."

"You're right," Kagome smiled, "nice, bubbly Kagome never gets in trouble."

"Let's try to keep it that way Higurashi," Ms. Kaede looked sternly at them from the front of the classroom, "Now, are you ladies quite finished?" (A/N: Ugh, I hate when teachers say that)

"Yes Ms. Kaede," the red-faced girls said in unison. 

"Good, because I'm going to give the results of the poetry contest now." So saying, the ancient-looking teacher waddled over to her equally ancient desk and retrieved two pieces of paper, one of which was a familiar shade of pink. 

If Kagome had taken the time to, she would have noticed the brutally crumpled state of the other piece of paper, but she was too busy staring at the pink paper in Ms. Kaede's right hand. Why did she have to pick such a conspicuous colored paper to write on? If she knew she even had a chance of winning, she would've written her poem on a plain, boring piece of binder paper like everyone else had! 

"Ehem," Ms. Kaede cleared her throat loudly, silencing the whispers that had rippled throughout the room at the sight of the two papers. Her gaze momentarily rested on Kagome, her eyes crinkling in amusement at the girl's expression of barely stifled mortification. Clearing her throat again, she began, 

"Well, I've read all your poems, and some were quite good, while others…" she trailed off, eyes straying to Hojo, "were not that good. To be honest, some plain sucked. But out of the poems of my two classes combined, only two stood out,a nd it's these two poems that have kept me up all night." She stopped, her sharps eyes sweeping over the room to make sure she had everyone's attention, 

"This is where you come in. perhaps you call assist me in determining which of the two poems deserve to be the winner."

Someone's hand shot up.

"Yes Nekoni?"

"Well, if both poems are from our class, then it doesn't matter since we win any way."

"I'm aware of that."

"Then what's the problem," the boy named Hojo spoke up. 

"One's from this class the other one's from my fourth period class," Ms. Kaede explained patiently. "I will read them each to you and you will vote on which one you think is the best."

Sango raised her hand. 

"Yes?"

"Will you be telling us which class each poem comes from?" 

"No. Not only would that be unfair, but the poets have chosen to have pen names…quite familiar ones actually," she added, looking down at the papers thoughtfully. "Any way, any more questions?" Her gaze snapped back up to the class challengingly, as if daring them to ask her a question. 

"No? Good. The first poem is entitled 'girl friday,' and the poet wishes to be referred to as Ilsa." 

Kgome resisted the urge to squeak, duck under her desk and cover her ears. Now that she thought of it, everyone would probably laugh at her poem… 

"girl friday

She'll be a good girl today. She'll study her music 

and make dresses. No sweets or shortbread for her

tonight. No skipping class or shaking legs no more

homespun nicotine starshine. Instead she will sit and

comb out the hot red knot that is she, fury and

curled-up toes and tie them up nicely, in two neat

plaits. She will close her eyes. She will erase the

pulse in her wrists. 

Mother told her once, that she had beautiful hands, 

but only when they were folded in her lap." 

Kagome looked down at her desk, her hair falling around her forming a curtain of soft, black hair. 

"Hey," Sango gently touched her shoulder, "You okay?"

"Yeah. Just trying not to fall asleep," she forced out, head still bent low, eyes still fixed on the characters some bored student with a sharp object had carved into her desk. IY + K = 4EVA Maybe if she kept on staring at those aged scratches the embarrassed blush painting her cheeks would go away. 

"The next poem," Ms. Kaede announced, once again quieting the whispers that had erupted, "is entitled, 'chew and swallow' by Rick." 

Kagome's jaw dropped. No way. There was no way in bloody heck that the guy in the other class picked his pen name from Casablanca as well. There was no way his pen name was the lover of her pen name in her favorite movie. She blinked; wow, she wasn't making sense any more. 

Sango elbowed her, shooting her a worried glance, "What's up with you? You're acting really weird today." 

Kagome didn't have a chance to reply. 

"'chew and swallow'

unsure of whether

i should down your

space cake and

keep the chocolate

bits in a corner

for tuesday

lick my plate clean

tried every fashion

of slice and dice

there was

but i'm afraid i can't

stomach this," Ms. Kaede finished, placing the papers back on the desk. Turning back to the class, she grabbed a marker and strode over to the whiteboard writing the names Ilsa and Rick in bold letters. 

"Now, to vote. All for Ilsa, raise your hand."

Kagome slid down in her seat, hands fisted firmly at her side. After hearing that Rick guy's poem, hers paled so much in comparison. 

"Okay, all those for Rick?"

Kagome raised her hand, looking at Sango out of the corner of her eye. To her surprise, both of her friend's hands were down on her desk. Catching Kagome's surprised expression, Sango just smiled kindly. 

"Well this certainly is an interesting turn of events, not to mention quite unhelpful," Ms. Kaede mused aloud, drawing Kagome's attention to the 15's scribbled under each of the names on the board. 

"It looks like Rich and Ilsa will just have to write another poem. It'll be due Wednesday along with the rest of the classes evaluations on 'Taming of the Shrew!'" She practically shouted, the bell and sudden rush to leave the classroom drowning out her voice. 

Kagome shouldered her yellow backpack, her binder hugged to her chest as she and Sango joined the throng of students cramming through the narrow doorway. 

"Hey Higurashi, those were some pretty good poems huh? I wonder who the writers really are, don't you?" Hojo asked conversationally, the current of moving bodies pressing a nervously smiling Kagome to his side. 

"Heh heh, yeah, I wonder," she replied weakly, throwing Sango a helpless look. 

"I bet it's probably one of those depressed people, you know, the ones who wear black all the time. My favorite one was the one by Rick," the boy continued, oblivious to the uncomfortable, if not painful feelings he was inducing in Kagome. 

"Yeah, the poets probably do wear black all the time," she agreed stiffly, looking down at her own pastel colored clothing, "and Rick's poem was a lot better than Ilsa's."

"Really? I think Ilsa's was the best," Sango argued, squeezing herself between Kagome and Hojo. 

"Yeah, I liked hers too," a girl named Yuka piped up, the inescapable motion of the crowded doorway pushing her towards the group, "I bet Kikyo wrote it, she looks so thoughtful and mysterious." 

"Yeah, but I don't see why she would write such a sad poem. I mean, with a boyfriend like Inu Yasha!" Eri, Yuka's friend, gushed. Yuka looked at her quizzically, 

"The poem's sad? I thought she was happy…"

Kagome finally made it out the door before, fortunately, her claustrophobic feelings overwhelmed her and she started beating people out of the way with her binder. Breathing a sigh of relief, she waited for Sango to escape the crowded doorway, then hurried down the hall. 

"Hey Kag, you sure you're okay?" Sango asked after a minute of walking in silence. 

"Oh yeah, I'm fine. Just a little sleepy," Kagome lied, smiling brightly. 

"If you say so," Sango muttered, still dubious, "Any way, do you wanna do something after school today? It's Fridaaaay," she sing-songed. 

"Can't, I'm visiting Colonel Pickle today."

"How about tomorrow then? They're showing old flicks at the theater."

"Casablanca?"

"Of course."

"I'm there then."

"Good." The pair stopped in front of Kagome's next class, "So, what's your next poem going to be about?"

"W-what are you talking about?" Kagome stammered, her eyes widening innocently. 

"Don't try to pull that one Kagome. I gave you that pink stationary for your birthday, remember?"

"Oh yeah…"

"Plus, the pen name was Ilsa: your favorite character from your favorite movie."

"I get the point."

"…So?"

"So what?"

"So, what's your next poem going to be about?"

"Oh that. Well, I don't really know," Kagome murmured, chewing ponderously on her bottom lip, "girl friday was just an accident really."

"I'm sure you'll think of something." Sango looked down at her watch, "Oh shit, I'm gonna be late for gym! Later Kag."

"Have fun!"

"I'll run an extra lap, just for you," Sango called over her shoulder as she rushed down the hall. Kagome chuckled softly to herself and shook her head at her best friend; Kami, what would she do without Sango?

Still chuckling, she turned and walked straight into somebody's chest. 

With a surprised, "Oof!" her binder flew out of her arms, binder paper and pink stationary fluttering slowly to the ground, occasionally catching in the fluorescent lights like a delirious child's demented perception of falling rose petals and snow. 

The boy she had walked into watched, fascinated, as the paper fluttered lazily to the ground, then he turned abruptly to her, startling gold eyes flashing in irritation.

"Watch where you're going," he growled.

Kagome didn't respond; she found that people with attitude problems were easier to deal with if you didn't respond at all. Instead, she pursed her lips and knelt down to collect her scattered papers, mentally concocting a tirade which she could only dream of unleashing upon the snappy boy she had run into. She had managed to retrieve about half of her belongings when she heard the swift shuffle of papers, and then the other half of her binder's scattered contents were being shoved under her nose. 

"Hmph, here."

Kagome looked up at the boy in surprise, taking note of the silver hair and black, doggy-eaered beanie, 

"Thanks," she smiled, taking the papers from him. He stood up and shrugged embarrassedly, 

"Feh, whatever."

Kagome stood up as well, still smiling, "Your name is Inu Yasha right?"

The boy visibly stiffened, his eyes rapidly hardening, "Yeah, whatsit to you?" He sneered, "You gonna ask where my parents thought up such a weird name? Gonna ask where I got my 'totally out of date' clothes? Well let me tell you something, it's none of your damn business."

Kagome could only gape at him after his little outburst before her cheeks flushed angrily and her right eyebrow began to twitch,

"Actually I was just going to say…" she hesitated, readjusting her grip on her binder. 

"Well? Today wench," he snapped. 

"God, don't need to be so defensive! I was just going to say I like your beanie," she scowled and swept into the classroom.

Inu Yasha stared at the spot the strange girl had occupied in bewilderment, seemingly unaware of the loud bell, echoing shrilly throughout the, now, empty hall. 

Shaking his head, he swore under his breath and went to class. 

A/N: Oh my. That chapter didn't turn out the way I wanted it to. I apologize for the choppiness. Any way, don't forget to review…you know you want to.  


	3. Squeaky Chairs

Only Words Can Say

Chapter 2: Squeaky Chairs

As soon as she had stalked into the classroom, she could feel it. Feel her stomach suddenly plummet downwards to her toes, feel her temples begin to throb painfully, feel her palms begin to tingle in dread. Mr. Jakotsu, her infamously gay biology teacher, had his cursed clipboard tucked under one arm and was pacing energetically up and down the desk aisles, smiling in a way that could only mean one thing: new lab partners. 

For the last time, she miserably dragged her legs over to her desk in the front of the class which she shared with her lab partner, Yura. Sliding into the seat, she tucked her hair over her shoulder—away from her hair-obsessed partner—and stared gloomily ahead. She was pleased to see that she wasn't alone in her melancholic state; many of her peers were gazing about the room dismally, but unlike the rest of the students, there wasn't any one in the room at the moment that Kagome would utterly despise working with. In fact, her foul mood was due, in part, to her run in with Inu Yasha in the hall, but was mostly due to the fact that she barely knew any one in her biology class. A new lab partner meant working with someone she barely knew and who would most likely conclude she was some mindless bimbo and would mentally chuck her into some clique that he/she assumed she belonged to. 

Before she could sink further within her musings, they were cut short by the nerve-wracking shrill of the bell, followed by Inu Yasha's entrance two seconds after the last high-pitched ringing had ceased. Only today he didn't saunter casually into the room, lips hovering between a smirk and a pout, and slide smoothly into his chair next to Kikyo like he usually did. Today he strode into the class with his hands shoved in his pockets, a pensive scowl on his face that suited him more than the playboy façade he normally dawned. 

Despite herself, Kagome couldn't stop her eyes from following him to the back of the room where he practically collapse into his chair, not even bothering to follow his daily routine of subtly smiling at his girlfriend before pretending to not pay attention in class.

Her eyes suddenly met with his across the room and she snapped her head back to the front of the class, missing the way Inu Yasha's scowl deepened and the speculative look Kikyo shot her. 

'_Stupid! What are you _doing _Kagome? Focus, focus, focus.'_

"Guess what we're doing today class," Mr. Jakotsu was exclaiming, hands clasped together excitedly. Apparently the deadpan stares of his students did nothing to dampen his mood because he continued just as cheerily, "You're trading lab partners! Gather your things and prepare to move."

A groan of general disapproval and reluctance rumbled throughout the room, mingling with the sounds of shuffling papers, zipping backpacks, feet shuffling to the front of the room, and the low murmur of students trying to speak softly.

Not bothering to quiet his class, Mr. Jakotsu whipped out his clipboard and daintily pointed to the desk Kagome had just vacated,

"Yura and Kikyo, you two will be sitting together right here."

He scrunched up his nose as the two girl flounced past him, barely concealing his disgust at them; Jakotsu's hatred of women was almost as renown as his sexual preference. Finally managing to mask his disgust, he slid over to the next desk and continued, 

"Sitting right here will be…" he paused and licked his lips in anticipation sending shivers of dread simultaneously up his students' spines. He was aware that the desk his one manicured finger lightly rested upon was often referred to as the hot seat, and oh! how he loved to see its newest occupants squirm!

"Inu Yasha and Kagome."

Kagome's eyes widened and her grip on her binders went slack in surprise. Frantically she searched her mind for something, any thing at all that she had done that could possible explain why Jakotsu was sentencing her to the hot seat, the desk front and center of the class whose occupants were subjected to insanely specific questions on the text and other twisted forms of mental torture teachers take pleasure in executing. 

No matter how much she wracked her brain, though, she could think of nothing she had done to offend Mr. Jakotsu other than being a girl. Great. She was being punished because her biology teacher didn't find her gender appealing. Just peachy. 

With a resigned sigh, she allowed her legs to carry her the short distance from the front of the classroom to her chair. '_I guess it's not that bad,'_ she consoled herself, slumping into her seat, '_At least I no longer have to be afraid of Yura dying my hair red while I take a nap…of course being in the hot seat means no naps any way.'_ She rested her head against one hand, and gazed listlessly at the whiteboard, '_Wait a second, I don't have to worry about Yura any more, but I _do_ have to worry about…'_

She paled and slowly turned in her seat. Gray eyes once again widened and she could practically hear the corny horror music playing in the background as her eyes traveled up past a pair of black, baggy pants and obligatory matching, worn-looking T-shirt to meet with familiar amber-colored eyes. 

"What are you looking at?" Inu Yasha growled, sprawling gracefully into his chair. 

"Nothing," she sniffed with an indignant toss of her head that had the corner of his lips twitching into a smirk. 

"Okay class, settle down now. Settle down," Jakotsu chided, bustling back to the front of the class, "We're continuing our genetics unit so pull out your notes mmmkay?" He smiled, his smile widening to a grin at the sight of Kagome and Inu Yasha. 

Both repressed a shiver as they hauled out their notes: Kagome's from behind the divider neatly labeled notes while Inu Yasha dug out his from the depths of his battered backpack. Smoothing out the wrinkles, he placed his semi-crumpled paper on the desk at about the same time Kagome placed hers; a fact that compelled him to shoot her a glare just to ensure that she knew her place. Naturally he was surprised when his seemingly timid lab partner parried his glare with a dirty look of her own, so much so that he pretended he didn't see her retaliation and, instead, turned his attention to the board where Jakotsu was scribbling out something about sexually-influenced traits.

With a loud crack of his knuckles, Inu Yasha gripped his pen with his right hand and brought it down to his paper. He had just managed to scrawl out "sexually influenced traits are," when he ran into a minor problem. 

"Move your elbow girl."

Kagome's eyes narrowed. The nerve of this guy! She had been attentively taking notes like a good student when he rammed his elbow right into hers and had the audacity to blame her for their discomfort! 

She pinned him with a withering look, "No."

He barely stopped himself from gawking at her, "What did you say?"

"You heard me; no. I'm left-handed, and I'm more comfortable with my elbow here."

"Well I'm right-handed and it's annoying banging into your friggin elbow with every word I write." 

"Then move your elbow."

"No, you move yours."

"No, you—"

"Is there a problem here?" Mr. Jakotsu interrupted in a syrupy voice.

The pair mutely shook their heads. 

"No? In that case, tell me the difference between sexually linked traits and sexually influenced traits, Mr. Inu Yasha."

"Uh---well—er—the differences are, that, sexually linked traits are—um—" Inu Yasha stuttered, floundering through his thoughts. How the hell would he know? In fact, _why_ the hell would he know?

"Well, Inu Yasha?" Jakotsu purred, eyes glittering excitedly. 

Oh shit. He did NOT want to serve detention with little-boy molester Jakotsu. 

"What I think Inu Yasha's trying to say," Kagome smoothly cut in, "is that your question is inaccurate and that what you're trying to ask is the difference between sex-linkage and sexually influenced traits since the text never actually mentions sex-linked traits." 

"Oh well," Jakotsu stepped back and squinted critically at Kagome, "I suppose that will have to do." The disappointment was painfully obvious in his tone.

After another minute of scrutiny, Jakotsu finally turned his back to the pair residing in the hot seat, presenting Inu Yasha with the perfect opportunity to glower at Kagome. 

"What the hell was that, bitch?" He hissed.

Her gaze snapped up to meet with his, gray eyes blazing, " I thought, that was helping your sorry butt."

"I never asked for your help."

"Fine then. Next time I'll let you get molested by him after school, have fun." She snapped, throwing her pencil down on the desk. To further emphasize her point, she folded her arms, turned away from him and leaned heavily back on her chair; the latter giving a rusty squeak of agreement, that—if Kagome didn't know any better—had the cute doggy ears on top of Inu Yasha's beanie almost _twitching_ in irritation. 

Rolling her eyes at such a stupid idea, she shifted to face the whiteboard, her chair giving another creak which, she was delighted to note, caused Inu Yasha to flinch and shoot her an annoyed glance out of the corner of his eye. 

For what had to be the third time that day, gray and gold eyes clashed, but instead of quickly darting away their gazes held sending a surprised, but not altogether unpleasant, jolt through the pair's bodies. 

Smirking at his lab partner's stunned, flushing face, Inu Yasha's eyes (still locked with hers) hardened challengingly as he slowly raised his arms to stretch, and leaned languidly back against his chair,

Squeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaak 

'_Ha! Take that bitch!'_

Kagome's brows furrowed, her lips pursed, and her eyes flashed with determination, 

_'Oh_ _so, that's how you want to play, hm?'_

Casually pushing her pencil off her desk, she leaned backwards to retrieve it, 

Creeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaak 

_'Top that hotshot.'_

He flinched and then scowled, the corner of his lip lifting ever so slightly to show a shiny fang,

Squeeeaaaak 

_'Bitch.'_

She glared at him.

Creeaaaak 

_'Jerk'_

_Squeeaak_

_'Ugly.'_

_Creeaak_

_'Stupid'_

_Squeak_

_Creak_

_Squeak_

_Creak_

_Squeaky squeaky squeaky squeaky_

He flashed her a cocky smirk.

Creaky creaky creaky creaky creaky 

She stuck her tongue out at him.

Creakity 

_Squeakity_

_Creakity _

_Squeakity_

"Excuse me you two…"

Creakity 

_Squeakity_

"I said, excuse me you—" Jakotsu tried again loudly, drawing the whole classes attention to the two insane students in the hot seat rocking back and forth in their squeaky chairs.

CREEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAK 

_SQUEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAK_

BAM

"That's it, DETENTION!" Jakotsu bellowed, his normally feminine voice suddenly deepening as he forcefully slammed his clipboard down upon their desks, putting a stop to the pair's disruptive antics. 

The corner of Kagome's eyes crinkled with the force of the cheeky grin she treated her desk mate with. Poor Inu Yasha, forced to spend detention with the Jakotsu all alone…

"That means you too Kagome."

"What?!"

Inu Yasha snickered as the girl's sickeningly sweet grin plummeted into an _expression of disbelief. Heh. He had a feeling he was going to have no problem staying awake in detention this time. 

A/N: Four daaaaay weeeeekend, fouuur daaaay weeeekend. YAY! And I even finished all my hw on Saturday. YAAAAY! Erm. Ok. Right. Well any way, there's the second chapter, and I'm uber sorry it took so long to get out. I had to actually formulate a decent plot for this story ^_^*. And man, I was really blown away by all the reviews you guys sent me. I don't understand, I've only posted a prologue and a chapter and I've received so many reviews! Not that I mind of course, he he. But anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and remember four things: 

1. Inu Yasha's not mine

2. I only got a B on my genetics exam in bio

3. Review, review, review!

4. Fouuuur daaaaay weeeeekeeeend


	4. Eyes

A/N: There'll be a bigger author's note towards the end, but I felt I should warn you that I've suddenly developed an eye fetish...don't ask me how, but suddenly I'm finding myself totally fascinated with eyes and my sudden fascination will be reflected in the fic. Yeah, I am pretty weird, sometimes...

Only Words Can Say

Chapter 3: Eyes

It was raining. 

Most of the other kids had squealed and scrambled to get inside their warm, dry houses as soon as the first raindrops had begun to polka-dot the pavement, but not him. Nope, he was different. Mommy so rarely allowed him out to play, he was going to make the most of it, even if it _was_ raining. 

But first to get comfortable. 

Whipping his small head first to the left then to the right in an inconspicuous attempt at surveying the area, he deemed his surroundings safe and threw off the red baseball cap his Mommy forced him to wear. Ah, much better. 

Tiny puppy dog ears momentarily perked upwards and swiveled about before flopping downwards against a shock of pale hair. Yes, the rain felt good against ears that had been squooshed under a hat for so long. 

Holding two cupped hands outwards in front of him, red hat forgotten at his feet, he began making his way down the street, 

"Ith wainng

ith pouwing

the old man

ith thnowing,"

His small voice echoed eerily throughout the empty street, not muffled in the least by the patter of rain or the soft padding of his feet against the sidewalk.

"He went to be

and bumped hith head

and couldn't get up

in the mowning."

He gave a sigh of utmost content; he always loved that part of the song. Eagerly he opened his mouth to belt out the song again, but a barrage of deep thoughts suddenly flooded his six-year old mind, causing him to stop and squint solemnly up at the sky. 

Was it raining _because_ the old man was snoring? How could the old man be snoring before he went to bed? And who exactly is this "old man?"

He heaved yet another sigh; what a trial it was to be plagued by such profound and pressing matters! He shoved his small hands into the pockets of the drenched, red pants he picked out and continued to pout ponderously at the clouds, secretly enjoying the sensation of the heavens weeping down upon his upturned face. 

Eventually the frown was smoothed from his brow and was replaced by a look of innocent fascination, amber eyes widening as he discovered that if he stared long enough at a certain spot, he could see single crystalline drops of water slowly falling to the ground, like the time he had broken Mommy's pearl necklace and hate watched in horror as each creamy bead slowly plummeted down to the floor. He had made Mommy cry that day. Before he could stop himself his hand had shot forward to snatch each bead before it fell to the ground and got dirty, but instead of scolding him, Mommy had just swept him into her arms and began sobbing into his hair. 

Ears flopping forward because of the force, he threw his head back and leapt determinedly upwards, hands outstretched above him. Maybe if were fast enough, he could catch enough raindrops to make his Mommy a new necklace a lot prettier then the pearl one he broke. Alas, his leaping was in vain for all he got were rivulets of rain sliding down his arm and clammy hands. 

Cold, tired but not daunted he resorted to raising his hands above his head and pouting-bordering-on-glaring at the sky while walking back to the flat; he was bound to catch an unbroken raindrop in the end. 

But it wasn't a cool, small, sparkly-raindrop that slid into his hands moments later, but two white, warm hands that curled about his small ones and spun him around.

"Where have you been, baby? You're going to catch a cold," Mommy gently chided, kneeling down to peer concernedly into his eyes. 

"I'm thowwy Mommy, I wath twying to catch you a waindwop," he explained, throwing his chubby arms around her neck and snuggling into her hair. Mmm. He loved Mommy's smell. She didn't carry that soft, warm, maternal scent that he could faintly sense on other kids, but she did smell of French perfume, smudged lipstick and silk dresses and he found that those smells combined were just as comforting. 

"Oh, I see. Did you catch any?" She scooped him up and held him against her hip.

"Nope," his face scrunched up in disappointment, "They kept on sliding thwew my fingers."

She laughed, hazel eyes dancing, and reached heavenwards with her free hand, uselessly pawing at the air, "Aw, I'm sorry babe," she chuckled, kissing him on the cheek, "the raindrops slide through my fingers too."

Pulling back slightly, his ears once again flopped to the side as he tilted his own head to the side and gave a decided nod, 

"I wuv you Mommy."

"I love you too baby," she whispered, pressing him to her bosom, "I won't let you go."

"M-Mommy?" He tried to push away to see her face but she held him even tighter, soothingly stroking his head,

"Shhh, hush." 

"B-but M--"

"Hush now love."

His limbers were beginning to ache, he couldn't breathe! 

"M-Mommy! Ith tho hot, pweath--I--"

"Shhh, it's going to be okay. I'll take care of you."

A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead, flames licked at his body, his hands, his clothes. The smell of rotting/burning wood and scorched concrete was causing his eyes to water and the fiery hot floor planks bit at his feet. He clenched his fists and barely dodged the burning ceiling beam that suddenly crashed downwards. 

Dammit.

The smoke and ash were dulling his senses; he wanted to get out of there and fast...but wait!

He needed to find something, someone; he _must_ find her. He had a painful, terrifying feeling that if he lost her, whoever she was, that everything would stop, that his very breath would be snatched away from him and he would just drop, a gaping hole in his chest. 

He sprinted down a hall--it was strangely familiar-- and kicked down a door, it being half burnt any way. 

There! On a mattress in the corner! He dashed into the room over to the lithe figure sprawled onto the mattress. With trembling hands he dragged her closer.

Damn.

Too much fucking smoke in the way. He brought her even closer; why could he _still_ not see her face? close, closer, he felt her nose brush against his, closer closer...

Shit! 

He would've dropped her in surprise but there was nothing to drop. There was only those eyes, those innocent, stormy gray eyes flecked with dark blue, fringed with sooty black and utterly mesmerizing.

It was as if he were under some sweet spell that wouldn't let him drag his gaze away from the eyes that both intrigued and comforted him at the same time. Like endless bolts of fabric-- refreshingly cool to the touch and dyed every hue of blue imaginable-- he wanted to wrap himself in them, allow them to soothe his throbbing chest and fevered skin.

Gods, he wanted nothing more than to surrender to those feelings of safety and security (almost sinful because the last time he had experienced them was when he was a mere pup) but the little, piercing voice named instinct was screaming that doing so would just be plain stupid. 

First of all, who was this girl? Why was she sleeping in an obviously abandoned, obviously burning building?

And why did those eyes look so damn familiar?

They couldn't be Kikyo's, could they? No, they looked almost identical, but hers never conveyed such emotion any more. BUt who else could they belong to?

K. Her name started with the letter K. 

Ka--

Dammit all to hell!

Thick, black smoke was starting to cloud his vision, gently tuggint he body from his vice-like grip.

No! Not yet! He need to know her name!

Ka--

She was gone. 

Gritting his teeth as if biting back his frustration, he inhaled deeply, immediately regretting it as he stomped down the impulse to clap his hands over his nose. 

The musky wreak of dirty socks from the locker rooms, the chalky scent of graphite pressed into the woodsy smell of binder paper, and the sour odor of day old milk from the cafeteria all wound themselves together to evolve from a cacophony of different smells into a single, bitter scent that not only had his eyes smarting, but was a painful reminder that he was NOT in a burning building, but still in the hell-hole he liked to call school. 

Blinking blearily up at the partially covered sun, Inu Yasha attempted to regain the composure he had lost at the startling sigh/smell of the school. What in the seven hells had just happened to him? One minute he had back-pedaled to being six again, then he was suddenly in some burning building, and now he was in the empty quad at school talking with Miroku. How could he be sure that this wasn't a part of whatever demented daydream he was doing through?

He tested the air again and winced; no dream could wreak so bad. Re-shouldering his hold on his backpack, he glanced at Miroku, who was waving around some flyer, to make it look like he was listening before glaring at the ground. 

He still couldn't figure out that girl's name. 

"Well, you're playing the part of the angst-ridden delinquent quite well, aren't you?"

"Hmph. You're playing the part of the lecherous wanna-be pimp even better." Inu Yasha shot back. 

Miroku held up his hands in defeat, "Touché. Hey weren't you supposed to be in there ten minutes ago?" He motioned his head towards the art building Inu Yasha had been glowering at earlier. 

He shrugged, "Yeah, so? Why aren't you in there?"

"I had a prior engagement."

"You felt that Kagura chic up in PE again didn't you?"

"Actually, no. You know a girl by the name Sango?"

Inu Yasha raised an eyebrow, "She's the one who wears guy pants all the time, right?"

"Man, you should see what's under those pants!"

Bopping his perverted friend over the head he rolled his eyes, "I'll leave that to you."

"If you insist," Miroku grinned with a resigned sigh. "But any way, what do you think?"

Inu Yasha stared blankly at him, "Uh, think about what?"

"This!" Miroku once again waved a green flyer back and forth in front of his face, momentarily forgetting about his friends "special" abilities. Before he could gasp in surprise, Inu Yasha had snatched the flyer out of his hands, further crumpling it, and was already wrinkling his nose at it in disgust,

"Old movie night? Why the hell would I waste my weekend with this crap?"

"Babes love that stuff! It'll be like an all you can eat buffet."

"You do remember I have a girlfriend, right?"

"Well, bring her along. You guys can make out in the back and I'll be the poor third wheel in need of comfort." Clasping his hands together, Miroku gazed upwards and batted his eyes angelically at his companion who promptly hit him over the head. 

"Ow! What was that for!" He whined loudly, causing Inu Yasha's ear to flatten against his beanie.

"Quiet," he hissed, "you know my friggin ears are sensitive."

"Oh, sorry man. They probably hurt a lot after that squeaky war you had in Jakotsu's class."

"For the last time, it wasn't a squeaky war. That sounds stupid."

"You sound stupid."

"Oh, you broke my heart there."

"I'm sure...so, are you going?"

"I don't know, I'm kind of busy--"

"Oh I get it. Writing that _poem_ for Kaede's class, eh?" 

"W-what the hell are you t-talking about?!" Inu Yasha sputtered, eyes narrowing. 

"You know! In lit? When Kaede couldn't decide whether your poem or this other chic's in second period was better? You have to write an--"

"I don't know what you're smoking," Inu Yasha cut in icily, "but I did not write that prissy ass poem."

"Mmmhmm, sure, sure Yash. I just didn't know you swung that way. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Cuz I _don't_ swing that way," he snapped, eyes flashing, "Plus, I'm not the one wearing purple right now."

"Hey, where do you think you're going?"

"Out of here," he smirked over his shoulder. He needed to go somewhere quiet for the sake of his ears and his uneasy mind. "Tell the teacher I feel like throwing up."

"But you used that one last week!" Miroku called back, but Inu Yasha had already jumped the fence and turned the corner. 

"..and do you know what that—that prick said to me afterwards, Kagome?"

"No Sango," Kagome sighed, looking up at the sky. It had been sunny when she entered the art building earlier, but it seemed that the light breeze that had been blowing all day had brought some clouds in with it because she couldn't even catch a glimpse of blue sky now. She heaved another sigh, overcast skies always affected her mood. 

"He said, and I quote 'Oh, so that's what you're hiding under those baggy pants of yours. You wanna see what's hiding under mine?' Can you believe that?"

"He actually said that with a straight face?" Kagome asked, semi-forcing herself out of her dismal mood. 

"Yup."

"And you let him live?"

"Unfortunately yes," Sango admitted, but brightened when adding, "But I did kick him in the groin and then push him into the dumpster."

The pair laugh and were making their way down the steps leading off campus, when a shout caused them to pause, giving a boy clad in loose-fitting pants and black hair in a short pony-tail the perfect opportunity to slide down the banister and land gracefully in front of them. Armed with a roguish smile he eagerly clasped Sango's hand, the aforementioned girl too surprised to protest,

"So, we meet again, Sango, my dear. I see you have once again dawned you boyish, form-hiding pants, but rest assured, I still vividly remember what lies beneath." 

"If you couldn't tell, this," Sango ground out, attempting to pull her hand away from his, "is the guy in PE that I was talking about."

"Hey, he's in our art class, isn't he?" Kagome observed, biting her lip to keep her laughter in check. 

"Oh, and who's this?" Miroku murmured, swiftly dropping Sango's hands, eyes traveling appreciatively the length of Kagome's body.

"M-me? I'm no one, really," she insisted, gray eyes widening when Miroku somehow managed to latch onto one of her hands and began raining kisses across her palm. 

"Um—er—eep! It's nice to—erm—meet you," she finally managed to squeak, finally tugging her hand away and clutching it to her chest. 

"The pleasure's all mine. My name's Miroku by the way, and your name is?" 

"K-Kagome." 

"Kagome, what a beautiful—"

"Since you two seem to be getting along quite nicely," Sango interrupted coldly, "I think I'll just be going home now, if you don't mind."

In a flash, Miroku was once again at Sango's side, clinging to her arm, "Sango, I'm sorry if my attention to Kagome has upset you. No, no, don't speak," he placed a finger over her lips, "Allow me to apologize by escorting you home."

"T-that's really not necessary," she stuttered, turning even redder than Kagome had, "I'm perfectly capable of getting home myself. Plus, I don't feel like getting raped today," she mumbled under her breath, causing Kagome to snort back a laugh. 

"What was that? Ah well, it doesn't matter. What does matter is that you get home safe and sound. Now, where do you live?"

"If I tell you, will you get your hand off my ass?"

"Only if I must."

"Trust me, it's in your best interest." 

Sighing he removed the offending hand and crossed both arms over his chest, "Now, where do you reside?" 

With as much dignity as she could muster, she smiled, quite seductively actually, stepped forward, and connected her knee with his crotch. 

"Bye Kagome, bye Miroku," she waved as she began walking down the street, "Oh and by the way, I live in the Laguna apartment complex." 

"Wait Sango," Miroku rasped, jumping up from the fetal position he had fallen into, "Allow me to escort you!" Wincing, he hobbled after Sango's disappearing figure, utterly unaware of the strange looks he was getting. 

A giggling Kagome waited until both Sango and Miroku disappeared from view before she schooled her face into some semblance of sobriety and began walking in the opposite direction her friend had left in. Clutching her binders closer to her chest, Kagome's eyes once again lifted heavenwards to the overcast sky, happy to note that an occasional shaft of sunlight permeated through the clouds. Hm, maybe today wasn't too bad. 

Sure, she had that little squeaky war with Inu Yasha, and sure she had gotten her first detention in five years, but in contrast to everyone else's lives she probably didn't have it too bad. Yeah, life was actually pretty good, right?

Her thoughts continued in this calm, rambling fashion as she made her way downtown in her short girlish skirt, hugging her collage-covered binders to her chest, head held high, her stormy gray eyes wide and dreamy looking. And just as calmly and steadily, the lavender, rose and yellow colored houses surrounded by white picket fences began to slowly morph into ugly navy blue and olive-colored apartments and townhouses with chain-link fences, and eventually even that gave way to empty lots, rust-tinged factories and dark alley-ways. The change of environment appeared to have no affect on Kagome, who still had that dreamy look in her eyes and that thoughtful ghost of a smile on her lips. She just walked on pass those dark alleyways, ignoring the hooded eyes that lurked within them, occasionally stopping to give some change and a smile to a homeless woman and her child. 

Finally she stopped in front of what must have been a noble establishment in its youth, but, like the rest of the downtown area, was reduced to a broken-down and abandoned brick building. It towered four stories above her with two metal structures protruding upwards from which smoke used to furl, but were now left to do nothing but gather rust. Small, rectangular, grime-coated windows which provided no means of looking in or out were scattered throughout the fourth and third stories, while the lower stories had only one or two large windows that were mostly intact, but had an occasional pane punched out giving the building the look of a blind man gaping in open-mouthed agitation as the rest of the world carried on without him. All in all, the building should've been a sobering sight, especially with cloudy, gray skies in the background, but Kagome merely smiled fondly up at the building and walked up the three steps to the massive door that led to the interior of the school. 

She absently brushed her fingertips along the plaque attached to the metal doors: 

__

The Shikon no Tama boarding school for young ladies

Established December 16, 1843

Courage, Family, Wisdom, Love

As usual, an image of what she imagined the school must've been like in its prime flashed into Kagome's mind for a moment and she gave a nostalgic sigh. 

"Wow. How sad change is sometimes," she murmured aloud, pushing the doors open with an ominous creak. A smile flitted onto her face at the sound so similar to that of her chair in bio, but disappeared quickly at the sight of the dark corridor in front of her. As stated earlier, the lower stories had little windows, which meant that most of the first and second floor was pitch black, a fact that creeped Kagome out to no end. Clenching both her eyes and fists shut, she took one deep breath before forcing her eyes open and bolting inside, the metal doors clanging shut behind her. Swallowing down a squeal of fear she sprinted down the corridor, up a flight of stairs, down another corridor and up yet another flight of stairs. Breathing heavily, she paused to catch her breath on the last step, before entering the considerably lighter corridor.

"Hello?" She called, voice echoing off the gray walls, "Is any body here? Hello? Colonel Pickle?" 

Instinctively hugging her binders closer, she crept down the hall and turned left into a room she knew the homeless man favored sleeping in ever since she had brought some Windex one day and swiped the grime off the windows, allowing natural light to filter through. Today, though, she brought something for his stomach rather than his home. Pulling out the Snicker bar tucked in her pocket, she flopped down onto the moldy mattress to wait for Colonel Pickle to arrive; he was probably on the fourth story. She had tried following him up there once, but he had given her a toothless, apologetic smile before silently closing the door in her face. From then on, whenever he began shuffling towards the flight of stairs leading to the fourth floor, she took it as her cue to leave. 

Her thoughts were was interrupted by the echoing slap of bare feet against the hardwood floor down the hall. Relieved that she didn't have to wait much longer (it was getting dark) Kagome sat up straighter, unwrapped her snicker bar and held it flat on her two palms, as if she was presenting some precious jewel she had long quested for instead of a cheap chocolate bar she had bought at school during lunch.

There was a moment of confusion in which the sound of footsteps abruptly halted, and there was the sound of someone sniffing, but then HE came into view, gluing Kagome to her spot. 

Her mind blankly took in the baggy, black pants, the red sweatshirt and the silvery hair (mussed in the front and smooth in the back) without any particularly mind-boggling observations, but when she got past the suspiciously flashing golden eyes and up to the trademark beanie she made an interesting discovery: there were the doggy ears on top of his head, but there was no beanie. 

Following her gaze, Inu Yasha froze, the ears she was openly bawking at swiveling back and forth. Then, before she could scream, she was suddenly being pinned up against the wall by her throat looking down, wide-eyed, into Inu Yasha's angry face, his fierce gold eyes threatening to burn her with their intense display of anger, lonliness and maybe even the slightest hint of sadness. 

__

'I've never seen such beautiful eyes...'

"If you tell anyone about what you've seen here," he snarled, cutting off her thoughts, "I will fucking kill you." 

A/N: Ugh, that chapter took me sooo long to write. I actually finished it a week earlier but it just was so boooring and so icky sounding that I re-wrote it a bagizillion times. Hope you liked it, though, and I'm actually responding to reviews! *Gasp* Claps for Dani for getting off her lazy butt and actually responding to all those loverly reviewer people...

Silver Teardrops- You almost forgot my story?! Whew, it's a good thing I posted this chapter then huh? ^_^

thegymrat- Thank you, I hope you enjoyed this chapter too. Kewliobeens pen name, by the way. For a while I've been pronouncing the -g in it like I would in the word game...wow, yes, the Qween has her moments of stupidity too...

Blair- With your C and my B in genetics, we can form a anti-genetics alliance! Woohoo! 

squeakyinuears- Alas, my four day weekend passed rather quickly...but now I'm on thanksgiving break! Of course, I can't really flaunt that around now since everyone is on it (or at least, I hope they are). Squeakity, squeakers, squeaky, squeaken...I love that movie! After I saw that I tried for days to get my voice like the evil lady's when she turned into a cat (I forgot her name), but eventually I stopped because my family was starting to look at me weird...

Siluial- Hey, I had a squeaky chair battle with my friend too! That's actually what "inspired" me to chuck that little scene into the chapter. Of course, my friend didn't look like Inu Yasha either....darn. 

wackoramoco87- Yeah, the j-dude in the last chapter is actually gay in the Inu Yasha series. I haven't seen many of the IY episodes though; I'm basing my stuff more on the manga. But any way, in the next chapter I'm going to find a way to tuck in a small summary of the movie Casablanca so you and a whole bunch of other people who don't know about it aren't left in the dark. 

Fairyangel24 and gala- Here's your next chapter! All fresh and warm from the oven...

Three-Letter-Word- Isn't Casablanca such an awesome movie? Some of my friends think it's a boring movie, but with someone like Bogart in it, I can't see where they're coming from. 

So cha, thank you all for reviewing my baby and keep'em coming! ^_~


	5. Of Youkai and Hanyou

Only Words Can Say

Chapter 4: Of Youkai and Hanyou

"If you tell anyone what you've seen here," he snarled, cutting off her thoughts, "I will fucking kill you." 

Kagome's already large eyes widened even further at the harshly delivered death threat which, judging by intensity of his gaze, he would have no qualms carrying out.

Kami, how she did she get herself in these situations? She should've just went straight home…

"Do you understand me?"

She nodded absently; maybe the clawed hand wrapped about her throat was cutting off too much of her oxygen supply, because instead of focusing on Inu Yasha's cruel words as she should have been doing, she found her attention drifting towards the two doggy-like appendages twitching atop his silvery head. Oh, how she would have loved to utterly loathe them for getting her into her current predicament, but they were just too cute! So soft and fuzzy-looking, the insides were a pale, peach-pink and the tips were edged with the most transparent of fuzz; how could any one hate them? 

"I said, do you understand me?"

 She winced as she felt his claws bite into the thin skin of her neck, focus shifting back to the angry, gold eyes attempting to stare her down. Frantically nodding her head, she was relived to feel his hold about her neck loosen, but was disappointed, not to mention a little puzzled, when he failed to relinquish his hold on her. What was he waiting for? 

Reluctantly her gaze swung back to the ears that had captivated her so much earlier. Aw! They were twitching! Her earlier thoughts returned to her and she could practically feel the tips of her fingers tingle in anticipation of petting them,

_'Oh…why not? This situation is already bizarre enough, might as well contribute to it.'_

Slowly raising her arms, she gently caressed and ear with each hand, working from the base to the very tip, almost cooing at the squeaky sound they made. 

_'They're so soft,'_ she silently marveled, just before Inu Yasha fully reacted to her ministrations. Gasping, he abruptly shook himself out of the contemplative haze he had fallen under and snapped his gaze up to meet with hers, momentarily revealing his surprise and disbelief. Before she could express her own surprise, he released her resulting in her sliding down the wall and landing gracefully on her bottom with a thump and a cloud of dust. 

"The fuck?" 

What was with this girl?

He just couldn't figure her out.

One minute she's like putty at his feet, trembling so much he couldn't tell whether she was shaking in fear or just experiencing involuntary spasms; then he turns away from her big blue eyes for one minute and she's violating his ears! Growling, he looked lazily down at the girl crouched upon the floor and wasn't too surprised to see that she had undergone yet another mood swing and gazing up at him with something akin to cautious amusement dancing in her eyes—which were more of a gray color now that he really looked at them. 

"I should be asking you the same thing."

"Huh?"

…Oh yes, that was very intelligent sounding. 

"As in, what the hell was this all about?" She pointed to the blue bruises marring the, otherwise, creamy skin at the base of her throat for emphasis. 

He felt a flash of guilt, but pushed the stupid emotion away, "Feh, I owe you no explanations."

"Oh?" The schoolgirl pushed herself off the ground, hands fisting at her sides as she glared angrily up at Inu Yasha, who was a good head taller than her, "Listen here, buddy, I didn't ask to accidentally discover your secret all right? But seeing as how I have, I think I deserve to know at least the basics of the secret I'm being forced to keep."

He returned the glare with an icy one of his own, "You wouldn't be forced to keep my secret if you didn't come here today."

"What, now it's all my fault?! I come here everyday, why should this day have been any different? And why are _you_ here, any way? Did you come to harass Colonel Pickles like the inconsiderate jerk you are? Or did you just think this the most convenient place to smoke your stuff?" She snapped, folding her arms over her chest and turning haughtily away. 

He grabbed her chin and roughly forced her head back in his direction, those large eyes of hers flying open in surprise, 

"You're in no position to make such accusations little girl," he growled, voice soft and dangerous sounding as he skimmed a claw from her cheek bone down to her chin, all the while maintaining eye contact. 

Kagome shivered at the sensation of claw against skin, but refused to back down. Inu Yasha wasn't the only one with a stubborn streak here, and she was going to prove it to him!

The seconds flew by unnoticed, the pair too busy partaking in a silent battle of wills involving smoldering gold and stormy gray eyes pitted against one another, attempting to stare one another down and/or tear through the other's defenses. Finally, without looking away, Kagome calmly replied, 

"I'm in every position to make such accusations; Colonel Pickle is my friend and I don't let my friends get hurt."

"Hmph, it's not like  you're the only one taking care of the fogey," he grumbled, not looking away either.   
Her eyes widened and she sputtered, "_You_ take _care_ of him?

"Hey, I don't see _you_ as the type who would befriend a homeless man."

"Well, I certainly don't see _you_ being some St. Sunshine either!"

"Hey bitch, that's not necessarily a bad thing. Can you imagine me bouncing around in a friggin toga tossing flower around?"

"Ugh, spare me the bad imagery…"

Noticing they were sharing a semi-decent conversation the pair suddenly froze before simultaneously dropping their gazes, thus putting an end to their staring content/scrutiny of each other. 

"Um, so what—" Kagome hesitated, chewing nervously on her bottom lip before tentatively continuing, "What—what exactly are you?"

His eyes which she had for the last few seconds been comparing to melting caramel, abruptly hardened at her words, cooling into what could only be compared to sheets of murky, defensive copper. 

"Tch, what do you _think_ I am girl," he sneered, putting up a front of casual annoyance hat would have been convincing if the fingers still holding her chin hadn't suddenly tightened their hold. 

She gave a hiss of pain, alerting Inu Yasha to his physical give away of the tension he was actually feeling. Wincing inwardly, he dropped the offending hand before pinning the thoroughly bruised girl with a cold stare. 

"So…what are you?" She ventured after a minute of silence. 

"Hmph, as if you don't know."

"I don't!"

"Well, you must have some idea…unless you're stupider than I thought," he sniffed, reluctant (as any one would be) to divulge his deepest secret to some girl he barely knew. 

"Well you can help a girl out you know," she fumed, giving in to the childish urge to stomp her foot in frustration. 

His lips twitched in amusement at her last action, but he merely ground out, 

"You're the one 'dying' to know. It's not like I'm gonna give you that answer on some gold platter."

"Well it'd be a lot easier than just randomly guessing at it. The only thing I can think of is a youkai which is impossible…" a chuckle died down in her throat the guarded yet intense expression on her face, 

"You _are_ a youkai," she breathed, stepping back in disbelief.  

"Hanyou actually," he grumbled, lowering his head so his bangs cast a shadow over his eyes. 

"B-but I—they're not—they're not really!" She weakly protested.

"Well I really wouldn't be here then, now would I?" He angrily responded, "And what's up with that face, bitch?"

He should've known she would react this way. Dammit! Why did he forget to put on his friggin beanie?

"I'm—I'm sorry, it's just so much to take in," Kagome apologized, shaking the awed expression off her face. Mentally replaying the conversation she paused before quirking a brow,

"Hanyou?"

"Yeah, what about?" he snapped. 

"Does that mean, um—"

"Yeah, that's what I thought," he cut her off, scowling. 

"What?! You didn't even let me finish!"

"Whatever," he brushed past her, hauling his CD player out of his sweatshirt pcket and slouching down onto the mattress in the corner. 

"Being a hanyou implies that one of your parents was human, right?" She followed him, taking a seat at the foot of the mattress. 

He didn't answer, just tapped his foot in time with the music he was listening himself to while gazing boredly out the window. 

"How come I've never seen a youkai before?"

No answer.

"Are hanyous common?"

No answer. 

"Why are you here any way?"

He growled and irritably forcefully hit the pause button,

"You can't see youkai because they have concealing tattoos. These days, hanyous are very rare so I'm pretty much one of a kind babe," he flashed her a bitter, fanged smirk, "Youkai think they're above humans and humans don't know we exist, so it's pretty unusual for them to hook up. As to why I'm here, that's none of your damn business." He promptly turned his back to her, signaling the end of conversation. 

Kagome, who was never very good at reading body language, wasn't satisfied with Inu Yasha's last answer, and let him know it by hitting the off button on the CD player he cradled in his lap.

"What the hell?"

She ignored his angry outburst, "You did come here to smoke, didn't you?"

He bawked at her before growling indignantly, "Wha? No! Drugs don't affect me in that way, idiot." He made to resume listening to his music, but not before adding, "And I'm not here to harass Colonel Pickle either."

"Then why are you here?" She managed to tug one of his ear pieces out of his ear.

Growling again in impatience, he swiftly swiped the ear piece away from her, stopping so his claws remained poised under her throat, 

"If I tell you, will you leave me the hell alone?"

Kagome mutely nodded, the ability to use her voice having fled when she found herself in danger of becoming decapitated. 

Sighing in exasperation, he lower his claws, easing the tense atmosphere,

"…"

"Well? Are you going to tell me?"

Hmph. What was he supposed to say? Yeah, he went there to mull over some weird youkai sixth-sense vision that he had before sixth period? As if she didn't think he was weird enough! …Not that he cared or any thing. 

"Hello?"

"God, I came here to think, okay? Will you shut it now?"

"Think?"

"Yeah. What, you don't think I can?"

"Well…"

"Shut the hell up."

"Oooh, this is rich," Hiten chuckled, pressing the binoculars even harder against his face. His boss had said something about an old homeless man, but he failed to mention that two teenage lovers would be involved. Teenage couples were great; not only were they more prone to "heated" behavior, but they were also so much fun and easy to smash apart and set against one another. 

Without pealing his eyes away from the pair, he brought his walkie-talkie up to his lips and whisper, 

"Do you see the two little brats in there, Manten?"

He waited, and after a few seconds the walkie crackled to life, 

[Yeah, and the old mean just walked in too…The wench has a pretty face, though, doesn't she?]

Hiten rolled his eyes; Manten and his one-track mind,

"She's decent, but that's not the point. The point is that the boss never mentioned a girl and a half breed."

_[Yeah he did.]_

"What are you talking about?"

_[The boss, he warned us about the half breed, remember?]_

"No, but go tell him any way. Tell him about what we dug up on the homeless man, and then tell him about the half breed and his bitch."

_[But what about you, Hiten?]_

"Just go tell Naraku, all right?"

_[Yes Hiten.] _

Hiten tossed his heavy braid over his shoulder, and adjusted the knobs of the binocular so they brought the half breed's face into focus. Yes, he would stay right there, and sit, and watch, and wait for the perfect moment…

"What are you smoking, bitch? Everyone knows that all Led Zepplin sings about is sex!"

"So? I would rather listen to Robert Plant sing beautifully about sex than listen to the Who bark about some kid playing pinball."

"Hmph. Figures you would like listening to music about sex; isn't that what that Brittany Spears slut is attempting to sing about all the time?"

"Uh, I wouldn't know since I've never really listened to her stuff."

"Uh-huh, sure…"

"You know, just because I wear colors other than black doesn't mean I listen to Brittany Spears and ogle Justin Timberlake all day."

"Okay, sure, whatever; back to the more important discussion: give me one good reason why Led Zepplin is better than the Who."

"Ha! That's simple, and I'm make it even simpler by keeping it to two little words: Jimmy Page."

Kagome didn't bother smothering her triumphant grin that steadily increased in size at the sight of Inu Yasha glaring wonderingly at her; apparently he wasn't used to losing arguments. 

Rolling her eyes at his obvious sulking, she turned her attention to the little man happily munching on a Snicker bar at her feet. He appeared to be just another homeless man found squatting in stoops or begging on the street corner. He wore a thick , pea green jacket that came down to his bare toes and his mop of rusty red hair was covered by a grimy, hole-covered beret. It was only when one took note of his thin wrists and slender, dirt-smudged fingers that it became clear that Colonel Pickle wasn't your average person. Such long, delicate hands belonged to an artist; such hands should be molding, creating, not sifting through week-old trash for a crust of bread to gnaw on. But what truly gave this man away were his eyes. They're color was a rather uninspiring brown, but it was their very benevolence that was unnerving. They held the look of a lost, broken but innocent child opposed to the hungry, worldly man his body conveyed him as.

Kagome would often ponder how he ever came to acquire such a lost look, but, being a sensitive soul, knew asking would probably stir troubling memories, and that was definitely the last thing the man need right now. 

"Stupid? Idiot? Wench? Hey bitch!"

"What?" She shouted, jumping a little in surprise at being so abruptly pulled from her thoughts. Colonel Pickle also turned in surprise, but then shrugged and resumed munching on his candy bar. 

"How do you know the Who and Led Zepplin?" 

"Oh, I grew up on that stuff!" Kagome smiled.

Finding the temptation to smile back a bit too strong, Inu Yasha schooled his face into a frown and shrugged skeptically, 

"Sure, whatever."

Not waiting for a reaction, he leaned back against the wall, pillowed the back of his head upon his hands and closed his eyes, letting the sounds of  'Tuberose' wash over him, easing his troubled mind. (A/N: *rolls eyes* Oh yes, the angst of our youth…) 

Just as Inu Yasha fully immersed himself in his music, Kagome averted her attention from the Colonel Pickle snoozing on the floor, to the Inu Yasha bobbing his head in time to his music. Now here was an interesting person, aside from the whole hanyou/youkai thing, of course. Maybe that was why he was so angry all the time?   

She poked him, "What are you listening to?"

He cracked one eye open to stare blankly at her before closing it and pointedly ignoring her. An uncomfortably silent minute later he opened both eyes and met her thoughtful gaze with a suspicious one of his own, 

"What are you up to bitch?"

She looked taken aback, "I was just trying to be friendly."

"Don't bother. You and I both know that by Monday we'll pretend this never happened, so there's really no point," he reasoned cynically. 

He closed his eyes again, fully preparing to lose himself in his music but for some reason he just couldn't focus. 

Swearing under his breath he opened his eyes again and stared disdainfully at Kagome who was staring pensively down at her toes. 

"A preppy little bitch like you wouldn't know who I'm listening to any way."

She looked up at him and rolled her eyes, "Try me."

He handed her his CD player with a shrug, eyebrows raising in surprise when, once she put on the headphones, he could hear her singing along with the song under her breath.

"You know the Broken Doll Heads?"

She nodded, handing back his CD player, "Yeah. Some of their stuff is pretty good. Actually 'Tuberose' is one of my all around favorite songs next to 'As Time Goes By.'

"Never heard of it."

"You know, it's that song in Casablanca—"

"That's a movie, isn't it?"

Her jaw dropped, "Only the greatest movie ever created."

"I highly doubt that," he snorted, "Who's in it?"

"Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Berman. It's a great movie."

"Does it have fighting?"

"In the physical or emotional sense?"

"Look, does it have swords in it?"

"Um, considering how it's set during WWII, I really don't think so."

"Then it's not worth my time," he smirked.

"What is it with boys and their obsession with pointy objects? Casablanca may not have swords, but it does have guns, and nazis, and a restaurant named Rick's place, and Rick himself, and Ilsa, and Sam the piano player, and suspense, and love, and lost, and sacrific…" She trailed off with a sigh, her hands clasped tightly together while she gazed dreamily out the window. 

Snorting at the girls obsession with the obviously lame chic flic, his gold eyes turned to the window as well, brows furrowing at the steadily darkening sky.

"Hey you," he snapped his fingers to the girls attention.  

She slowly turned to raised an eyebrow at him, "What?"

"Shouldn't you be running home now, it's getting dark," he slid off the mattress and walked over to one window, leaning casually against it.

"Oh my God, you're right!" She gasped, flying up so fast that Colonel Pickle jumped awake too. He stared wide-eyed at Kagome, then back and forth between Inu Yasha and the girl before beaming and scurrying out the door and down the hall.

"I didn't even bring money for the bus," Kagome wailed, about to follow Colonel Pickle out the door when a loud cough drew her attention to the hanyou leaning dangerously far out the window he had just swung open. 

"How do you plan on getting home, girl, if you're not taking the bus?"

"I'm walking home," she explained primly, glancing at the slate gray sky uneasily. 

"Hmph, not in this part of town. I'm surprised you haven't gotten hauled off and raped yet."

"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself," she said coldly though inside she was screaming for an alternative, preferably safer means of getting home. 

He glowered at her a second before turning his back to her and crouching, "Get on."

"Excuse me?"

"You want to get home a virgin don't you?"

"Hey, who said I'm—yeah."

"Then got on my back."

"Can't I just—"

"Just get on my fucking back."

Cringing at his harsh tone, she slowly walked over to him. Shyly placing a hand on each shoulder, she paused, 

"Are you sure this is necess-ARY!" she squealed the latter in surprise when he have a small growl, swept her onto his back and, without any warning, leapt out the window. 

For a minute they were suspended in air, captured in a moment of sobering dark gray clouds lined in bloody red. Then they were plummeting downwards, cool air tugging at their hair and faces; their was a brief contact with solid window ledge, and then they were soaring up onto the roof. With beautiful, cat-like grace, Inu Yasha raced across the rusty, dilapidated roofs of downtown, the sun sinking lower and lower with every roof he leapt upon. On occasion, he had sail over barbed wire and spikes that jaded storeowners hoped to use as defense against "roof climbing riff-raff," but even then his actions remain fluid and uninterrupted.

Finally he allowed a dazed, wind-swept Kagome to catch her breath at one rooftop at the very outskirts of the downtown area.

"What's up with that face," he asked, using one of his favorite phrases. Turning to look at her over his shoulder, he smirked at the way she blinked owlishly at him, 

"That was awesome," she whispered, gray eyes dancing, "It was like we were flying."

His ego swelled, "Keh, there's a difference between jumping and flying stupid. Any way, where do you live?"

"Do you know where the Sunset Shrine is?"

His only answer was to leap upwards again, Kagome arms instinctively tightening about his neck as she let loose a small squeal of surprised delight. Today was weird, annoying and irritable, but if that was the price to feel like she was flying…she smiled and unconsciously snuggled into the warmth of Inu Yasha's back. 

All too soon, Inu Yasha was leaping into the branches of one of the massive trees that lined the shrine grounds and was lowering her to the ground. 

"Um," she looked down at her hands before smiling almost shyly up at him, "Thanks."

Grateful that the leaves hid his blush he shrugged, "Hmph, don't get all weepy on me, girl."

Her eyes narrowed, "I wasn't proposing to you or anything! I just thanked you."

"Well no one asked you to."

"It's common courtesy but I forgot, you don't know anything about that, do you?"

"All I did was bring you home, nothing worth getting worked up over."

"Okay, fine, you got me home. Now how about you go on and get yourself home."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Fine!"

She whirled around to retort, but with a rustle of leaves he had leapt upwards and, before she could utter a word, had disappeared into the night. 

A/N: Wow. That took a while to type up. I had it written up and finished two weeks ago, I just had finals to deal with so I didn't have time to actually type it up. Sorry! Oh, and I have a couple of comments about this chapter:

a) About the whole Led Zepplin and the Who thing; I don't like either one above the either, I think both of their stuff's equally awesome in different ways. Trying to pick one over the other is like asking me which one of my (non-existent) children I love more, it can't be done! 

b) There is no band called The Broken Doll Heads to my knowledge, kind of like there is no song called Tuberose to my knowledge. Actually, a tuberose is a flower, which supposedly symbolizes dangerous pleasure. Ooo la la, rather racy…

Reviewer Responses:

thegymrat – Gymnastics, huh? I used to do that, but then we moved and I stopped doing it for a year, and when I tried to do a flip-flop again I discovered that the Qween doesn't work that way anymore…

bagira- People haven't heard of Bogart? That _is_ surprising! I think even when I was younger I heard of the name and could match it with a face…but any way, sorry it's been taking so long to post this chapter, but now that it's here, I hope you enjoyed! ^_^

Siluial- Yeah, the Miroku and Sango parts are just so much fun to write because I don't have the fights be too serious. If I made Inu Yasha and Kagome fight because Inu Yasha was acting too suave, it would be just weird, but if Miroku and Sango fought over that it would still be IC. Fun. Fun! 

Three-Letter-Word- My sister fell asleep while watching Casablanca, so I chucked a pillow at her to punish her for committing such a sacrilege. ^_^ Hope you liked the ending on this chapter, though, I'll admit, it's rather clichéd…

Not Just the Shard Detect- Don't you love the eyes? Personally, I think blue eyes are just awesome but if gold eyes could actually occur…*drool*

yousei/amberyes- You know, I've been trying to get my friend to watch Casablanca for a while now, and the whole tying her to a chair and gagging her sounds like a great idea…

gala and DragonTamer9741- *hides* Sorry for the cliff hanger! I'll try not to do it again…though I can't make any promises. Thanks for reviewing!

Squeakyinuears- he he, yeah I know what part of that Aladdin song you're talking about. Any way, I hope this chapter answered your questions, but if things are still murky tell me so because I have a tendency of overlooking the obvious -_-* Hope  you enjoyed the chapter!

Caligo Origuu- Oh yes, Kagome has found Inu Yasha's secret and she's actually going to keep it! Naturally, if I were slammed up against a wall and threatened like that I'd keep his secret too. ^_^

Lilacks, Deadly Tears and Jalla – I'm really sorry that I didn't hurry and update soon, but I hope this longer-than-usual chapter compensates! Thanks sooo much for reviewing. Toodles! ^_~

Ugh…my head hurts…need…sugar…Thanks to you all for reviewing and keep'em coming! …ugh…sugar….


	6. sososososososorry

Yeah, I know, I know. You're probably all wondering what the author excuse is this time and I'm sad to say it's pretty much the standard one: I'm too busy. It's junior year, and I'm following the whole psycho trend of throwing myself into school and extracurricular activities 100%. I was planning to update all of this summer, but summer homework and SAT classes have just eaten away at everything. Frankly, even if I did have time, I just don't have the confidence in my writing abilities to pick up where I left off. I'm really sorry, but the likelihood is that I probably won't be updating any time soon. Please don't hate me! Hopefully I'll be able to hone my skills enough (and grab enough time) to begin writing fanfics again. So thanks to all of you guys for the support and positive feedback, and I'm really, really, really, really, really sorry!

Qweeni


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